


Loyalty

by MaddieLys



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical swearing, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Femdom, Master/Pet, Nightmares, Pillow Talk, Post-Castlevania (Cartoon) Season 3, Seduction, Sex, Sleeping Together, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24830389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieLys/pseuds/MaddieLys
Summary: Lenore made Hector into her pet, she says, for his own good. He doesn't see things this way, though, and wants his freedom back.They engage in a fight of seduction and deception, not knowing what else the future holds for them to come.“Have you finished playing the nice owner, sister?” Morana welcomed her, sipping blood from her chalice.“Patience, my sister. When I’m done with Hector, these rings will be just toys. No chain is stronger than loyalty.” She knew better than anyone.“So you’ll fuck him until he’ll fall in love with you?” Carmilla asked.Lenore laughed. “Of course not! That’s just for fun.” She poured blood for herself and sipped it. “But how I train my pet isn’t tonight’s topic, isn’t it?”
Relationships: Hector/Lenore (Castlevania), Morana/Striga (mentioned)
Comments: 62
Kudos: 111





	1. Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt to write something in English, instead of translating from my native language. If you see some mistakes, please let me know, and thank you for your help. I'm still working on my skills, and Grammarly helps, but I hope the result is however enjoyable.

Lenore fell on the bed, her arms spread on a T form. “You have to admit I did quite a great job.”

Hector frowned.

“Everyone has what they wanted. I granted my sisters’ wish to have you as their Forgemaster, I guaranteed your safety in our kingdom, and…” She looked at him. “Well, it was legit to earn something from my job, right? A lady deserves her little pleasures; don’t you agree?”

“I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t.”

Lenore lifted on her elbows, smiling. “Oh, if you give me another orgasm like the last one, I think I could.”

Hector looked at her, his lips just slightly apart, and he blinked.

“Oh, don’t be so surprised. I told you I like you, didn’t I? I meant that.”

He gulped. His throat was so _inviting_ when he did.

Lenore smiled and patted the bed next to her. “Here, pretty boy. Sit down.”

Hector crossed his arms. “No.”

“Oh?”

“Are you insane? How can you even _think_ …”

“That this is your heart’s deepest desire? Please. You told me.”

“So you _are_ insane.”

Lenore laughed and stood up. “I’m not. I’m just good at everything I do.”

“And modest, I see.”

“Modesty is for weak, lazy people who don’t want to work hard to improve their skills.” She grinned and took his hands. “But, as I was saying…” She leaned toward his lips just for a second too long, and then she broke the atmosphere pulling him on herself, just like in the cell.

He was lighter than a feather but solid. And hot, in many ways.

“You told me.” She caressed his cheek. “You need someone who takes care of you, who gives you a purpose, a goal. Someone who appreciates you and praises you when you do a good job. An owner, in one word. And who can suit the job better than me?”

Hector tightened his lips. “I can write you a list if you give me paper and a pen.”

Lenore snickered and patted his cheek. “Silly boy. But that’s so cute of you.” She pinned him down on the bed, pressing on his wrists. She stroked them with her thumbs and went through his palm, interlacing her fingers with his. “You don’t have to believe me. You’ll see by yourself, starting… well, even now, if you indulge me.”

“I have to refuse. Even the best sex can’t compensate for the loss of my freedom and you are… average, to be generous.”

Lenore could feel offended if his frenetic heartbeat didn’t echo in her whole body through their skin. And if his boner wasn’t pressed between her tights. So she laughed again, clinking like a bell. “Nice try. Now, if your ego is appeased, we can go to the fun part.”

“I’m serious, Lenore. You’re gorgeous… and nothing else. Every attraction I could feel toward you died when you put that ring on my finger.”

“For everyone’s safety.”

“My word wasn’t enough?”

“Your word implies _faith_. This, as I told you, is commerce. Besides, even _if_ we wanted to trust you, your word is… light, at its best, since you change your mind quite easily.”

“I don’t.” Hector turned his face away. “Not for everyone, at least.”

Lenore grinned. “Carmilla can testify the opposite.”

“Didn’t you said she made me face the truth?”

“I did, and I meant that. But she wouldn’t have seen it in this way. Neither Morana nor Striga would. So I had to give them something more than your word. Something they can see and touch…” She took his chin to make him look at her. “Nothing bad will happen if you’ll be a good boy.”

“You don’t trust me, but you expect I do?”

“I never lied to you.”

Hector lifted his eyebrows.

Lenore smiled. “I can’t take you out of Styria, for now, but in future… we’ll see if you’ll earn it.” She kissed the corner of his lips, went down his neck, and purred on his collarbone.

Hector stiffened. His heartbeat was louder than ever. Music played directly in her ears. His boner grew stronger, but his free hand was where she left it.

“Don’t be afraid, pretty boy. I mean no harm.” She kissed his soft skin where the shirt exposed pectorals, inhaled his salty smell, and get up. “Dawn is near. You can rest here, for today. Tomorrow I’ll show you your chambers… or mine, if you’ll be in a better mood.”

“What?”

Lenore laughed. “You’ll see. This place is full of wonders if you know where to look.”

Hector showed her puzzled eyes. He was so _cute_ and didn’t have a clue about his potential. Under her guidance, he would have blossomed.

She blew him a kiss and left. She was so thrilled she could dance in the middle of the corridor. Yeah, the possibility of an empire was nice, but such a cute, little puppy to play with? It was just better, in its own way. She couldn’t _spoil_ an empire, after all. She hummed a song, closing her chamber’s door behind her back, and leaned against it for a moment.

There was so much to do, and so little time to do it. Her plans were marching on, but slower then she could hope. Hector’s smithy wasn’t ready yet; since it was her pet’s, she wanted it to be _perfect_. Striga and Morana were working on the bodies’ problem, so there was still time, but she wanted to show it to him _before_ he’d to work there, so he could get used to it.

“No need to worry,” she said herself. “Everything will work out.” She clapped her hands, undressed and slipped under the sheets.

Another night alone in her queen size bed. At least, it was warm. She could bear it. “Just this one.”

Carmilla had her boys. Striga and Morana had each other. Soon, she’d have her pretty boy too. She just had to be patient.

She closed her eyes, dipping her face into the pillow.

And then the nightmares came.


	2. Name

Hector woke up hungry. What time was it? Without a window, he couldn’t tell.

The room was dark and warm; the bed was soft. Everything suggested him to sleep through that hell, but how?

He felt awake, in too many senses. His body was full of energies, and his mind… He shook his head and sit in the middle of the bed. The one Dracula gave him wasn’t even half nice or big. Lenore chose it thinking of them having sex? But that wasn’t his room, so… she just opened the first door, sure to find a comfortable bed? Well, why should he care?

He lit the candle on his bedside table and looked around.

The furniture was plain light wood. Nothing more than a dressing table, a wardrobe and a desk. There were paper and pen on it. But the wardrobe was empty, except for a small pile of clothes, with a letter on its top. It had a crest printed in the sealing wax: a crow with an olive branch in his beak.

Lenore. So she knew he could refuse her after what she’d planned. And she prepared that room for him. Again, why he cared? “I _don’t_ ,” he said as if shouting it out loud could make it more true, and broke the crest.

_I thought you could like a warm bath. You can take all the hot water you need from the pipes. I’d rather show you how, but you’re reading this, so it means you refused me. Don’t worry: I’m not mad at you; I’ll let you make amends._

_Sleep well, pretty boy,_

_Lenore_

What the fucking hell? Vampires could preview the future, now? She seemed capable of it, but he was certain there was a trick. It _had_ to be, or she didn’t need to put that ring on his finger. That was just her manipulation. She was playing with him, making him believe that she had powers, skills or whatever. He wouldn’t fall for her, no way. Even if a bath would be nice.

“Well, she didn’t preview all of it.” He went to bed without opening the wardrobe, after all. She was good, but not _that much_. He smiled, took the clothes and went to the other room.

Alongside the back wall, there was some kind of enormous marble basin. A faucet leaned out on it, but there was no leverage to activate it; just two knobs on its sides.

Could it be…? He grasped the gold one and the water flowed, filling it while a string of white steam climbed toward the ceiling. A warm bath really could be nice, for a change. Better than being kicked by the guards and dragged for miles, night after night, on his bare feet. But he wouldn’t thank her for that. She betrayed him, and he wouldn’t forget. He cursed through his teeth, undressed, and entered in the basin. His muscles _sang_ , melting in joy, and he sighed.

“Oh, so you discovered how to fill the tub.”

Hector jolted, looking at her.

Lenore smiled and leaned to brush his hair. “Clever boy.”

He blushed, but he couldn’t avoid her touch. Why it was so soft and gentle?

“Make room.”

Hector was so surprised he couldn’t resist her, nor protest. He just slid on his right and pulled his legs against his chest.

“Good boy.” Lenore let her dressing gown fell on the ground. She was naked, except for a cute pair of white panties with a ribbon sewn on it. Her nipples were stiff like cherries begging to be sucked. Or at least she let them seem that way.

Hector gulped and hated every reaction of his body that the water couldn’t hide. Damn memories, and damn his stupid cock! How could he prove he _wasn’t_ an animal if his body acted like one? He turned away and closed his eyes, but he shivered nevertheless when the water trembled between their bodies.

Her arms encircled him, and she kissed him on his shoulder blades. Even sitting down, she was shorter than him, and yet she managed to beat the hell out of him. “Are you sulking, pretty boy?”

Hector bit his lips.

Lenore caressed his chest and abdomen, descending toward his boner, but so slowly that every second felt like _centuries_.

He gripped her wrist. “I told you already.”

Lenore kissed him again, on the shoulder, and then on the neck. She escaped his grip like she didn’t notice and took his calloused hand in hers to kiss its back. “I heard you. And I know that you’re lying.”

“You _want_ me to.”

She made him turn around and smiled. “I won’t force you, pretty boy. It wouldn’t be fun.”

“Why should I care?”

“Because I _did_ like to fuck with you in that cell, and I’d like a replica. Many replicas.”

His cock wanted them too, but he wasn’t his cock. Damn. “You want to fuck with a non-real-person?”

Lenore grinned. “So you _are_ sulking.”

“This is not a caprice, Lenore. Don’t try to make me sound like a kid.”

“I don’t think you as a kid, pretty boy.”

“Hector,” he puffed. “I have a name; use it.”

“Kiss me.”

Hector blinked. “What?”

“I’ll call you by your name if you kiss me.”

Something roared in his chest. He could satisfy that urge to touch her and gain by it. It was a double win, but how he could hold back from desiring more, then? His body didn’t care how wicked and manipulative she was; it found her gorgeous, and it was enough. “You can’t bargain over my name, Lenore. Not everything is commerce. Some things are given freely. Respect, to name one.”

“I just want a kiss. How can this be disrespectful?”

If he didn’t saw her malice, he would have said she seemed a child, robbed of her favorite toy. In a way he didn’t like, it was correct. Problem was it made her cuter than ever. Probably he’d regret it soon, but he leaned and kissed her on a cheek.

Lenore looked at him like he cheated, but she grinned. “You call that a kiss? You can do better, pretty boy.”

“I could _when_ you’ll call me by my name.”

“So you want something, after all.” She smiled and leaned back against the tub. “But you know the rules: nothing is for free; you always had to offer something in return.”

There was no escape, then? Any game needs two players; if she wasn’t willing to let him give the cards, he was unarmed.

“I could teach you so many things, pretty boy.” Lenore turned and took a bar of soap from a shelf on her left. “If you just let me.”

Hector swallowed his breath. He was in his cell, all over again, looking at her fingers playing with a blueberry. Except that he could touch her now. He just had to reach out to her, take the soap from her and… He clenched his fists. What was so _wrong_ with him? He was falling for a miserable _trick_.

“Do you need soap? Or you just want to use it on me?”

“Don’t you need to work on your sisters’ scheme, possibly out of here?”

Lenore smiled and pressed herself on him. “You’re my only ‘job’, pretty boy.” Her leg infiltrated through his and played with his boner, while her hand rubbed the soap on his chest. “And it just happens that I want to pamper you.”

How could she say something so nice while torturing him? She was playing him again. “Lenore…”

“Yes, pretty boy? What do you _want_?”

Hector fell. He kissed her, holding her waist as he could break her. “Call my name. _Please_.”

“Good boy. My Hector.”

Why did it suddenly seem so nice? It still was like he was her dog, and yet it sounded _sweet_. “Can I kiss you again?”

“As much as you want.”

He obliged, pressing her against the wall and knocking on her teeth with his tongue. He could feel her canines, just like the day before, and it was _thrilling_. “I could spend _days_ kissing you.”

Lenore chuckled. “We have a lot more fun things to do before we get to sex. And the water is cooling.”

Oh… it was true. He just was too distracted by her beauty to notice.

“Come here, let me help you.” She made him stand and loathed him, giving to his boner a look slightly ‘too’ long and happy for his taste. And printed a kiss on the tip, more than enough to make his heart race. “Now you have to bend, my boy. You’re too tall,” she said, standing in front of him with a porcelain pitcher full of hot water. “Close your eyes.”

He bent, and she poured the water on his hairs. The soapy water flowed gently on his skin, taking away every sadness or fear, fatigue or rage. There were just her touch and that delicate scent of lavender.

Lenore came out of the tub first, dried herself with a towel and put her dressing gown on. “Come here, Hector,” she called him, offering him a new white towel.

He obliged. “I can do that myself. You don’t need to…”

“But I want to. Let me spoil you, my cute little pet.” She kissed him before he could protest and wrapped him in the towel.

Hector didn’t like when she called him that, but her tone and smile were… difficult to ignore. So he stood there and let her dry him.

“Oh, now you smell so nice,” Lenore said, helping him to get dressed. “Wait for me, now. I have a few surprises for you.”

*

Lenore came back a few minutes after, wearing a long vanilla dress and the usual fur cloak. She took Hector’s hand and dragged him in the corridor, up the stairs, down another corridor or two and inside not just a library, but the _biggest_ library he’d ever seen. “If you liked the book I gave you (it awaits you on your bedside table, by the way), well, you’ll _love_ this place.”

Hector agreed.

There were many more books than he could read in a lifetime or two.

“Name a title, and you’ll probably find it here. As I told you, humans forget; vampires don’t.”

“Can I really…?” No one had ever been so kind to him, not even in the twisted, wicked way Lenore was. He knew what she was doing, but it worked anyway.

“You’re now equal to me and my sisters. You’ll have your private chambers _if_ you need them, and you can walk freely in the castle. No one will give you orders or lay a finger on you ever again.”

“Until I’ll be useful, at least.”

“I have this feeling it will be a very long time,” she chuckled.

It seemed so easy to believe her… “But why?”

“Selfishly, because I like when you smile.” Lenore caressed his cheek and put a rebel lock behind his auricle. “There’s something nice in your face when your guard is down.”

Hector kissed her wrist. “Just that?” It _couldn’t_ be so easy.

“For now,” Lenore purred. “Come. There’s so much more I want to show, and night isn’t so long.”

His stomach answered with a loud, complaining noise.

“Right. You didn’t eat, so… what do you want for breakfast? Or lunch, since it’s almost midnight.”

Already? “I don’t know.”

“Well, then it’s a fortune I’m a prepared woman.” Lenore took him to the basement and knocked on a door.

A middle-aged woman opened, and tasty smell of food spread in the corridor. Some locks of brown hair peered from under her cap; they were graying on her temples and, combined with the wrinkles around her eyes, made her look older than her age. “Your Highness,” she said, “Sarah’s preparing the basket right now.”

“We can wait, Martha. Don’t rush her.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Martha looked at him like she wanted to ask something.

Lenore smiled. “He’s cute, isn’t he?” Somehow, it sounded like praise him was a compliment for herself.

Martha chose a wise silence, and Sarah’s voice saved her before it became too long. She excused herself and came back in a moment with a basket like the one Lenore had in their first meeting.

“Thank you, Martha.” Lenore accepted the basket and waved off, setting out to the garden. “The moon is beautiful tonight, don’t you think?”

“It is.” But she was more.

Lenore led him to a balcony, where a table was prepared for two, with just pink cyclamen in a vase as centrepiece. She set the table for him like she was fulfilling some kind of sacred duty and performing a pièce at the same time. It was enchanting, like a dancing snake. “Enjoy your meal,” she whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

“You don’t…?”

“I already drank, but I won’t refuse if you offer me a sip.” She grinned, showing her canines, and she laughed. “I’m getting repetitive, but you’re so cute. You’re probably bored to hear me.”

Hector shook his head. Course he wasn’t. He should, but it was nice to be praised by her. Dangerous too, but pleasant. He took his time to eat the rabbit, but it was quite unnerving doing it under her scrutiny. “Isn’t boring to watch me eating?”

“Of course not. Appetite is an indication of good health, and I need you in your best shape… or you could faint in the middle of sex and it wouldn’t be fun.”

Hector looked at her with the fork in the middle of the air, more than a palm from his open mouth. Did she _really_ intend to claim that she didn’t want anything else from him? “You can’t be serious.”

Lenore shrugged. “I won’t deny being part of the imperial family could be nice, but… so much work should be rewarded.”

“You say it like it’s not what you want.”

She took his hand and caressed the ring with her thumb. “It’s my sisters’ dream, and that’s enough.”

So she was stating she made him a slave just for their sake. She didn’t care a bit of his fate, and she’d let him die when they’d no longer need him. He sighed.

The strudel looked at him from the basket, but his stomach was knotted.

Lenore frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Everything, but why try to explain? She wouldn’t understand, no matter how hard he’d tried. “I’m just full.”

“That’s a shame. I heard Martha’s strudel is the best. My human guests usually love it.” Lenore clapped. “Well, you’ll taste it another day. Come.” She dragged him around the castle, showing him drawing rooms, art galleries, game rooms, and so many other places where he could spend his time _if_ he wanted.

She wasn’t adding that last part, but he could hear it anyway.

“These are your chambers,” she announced, in front of a closed door. “And these are mine.”

So the tour was over? Above all, she had his chamber prepared next to hers? Was she willing to go so far to… to what? She just had him captive. What else she could want?

“Don’t you come?”

“I…”

Lenore took his hands. “I won’t force you, Hector. You’re free to choose.”

“I’m not. You made me a _slave_.”

“We already talked about that.”

“ _How_ can I believe you?” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead on her shoulder.

“Oh, Hector. My cute boy.” Lenore brushed his hair. “You don’t have to believe me. It’s just the truth.” Her touch was gentle and slow, almost hypnotic. “Come and see; then you’ll choose.”

Her chamber was a triumph of blue and silver. The finest canopy bed, with a headboard of wrought iron arabesques and silk blankets, dominated the room. On its right there was a desk; the wardrobe and the dressing table were on the left, separated by a painted window. The mountain landscape was almost perfect; only the flying crow in the corner revealed the craft.

“Do you like it?”

Why it seemed like she was asking about herself? “It is…” Which was the right word? And why the book he was reading was on her bedside table? Above all, why there were _two_ bedside tables?

“Oh, you noticed.” Lenore smiled. “Didn’t I tell you it was waiting for you?”

“This isn’t my place.”

“It could be if you want it.”

Hector clenched his fists and stepped back. “This was your plan since the beginning? You’re toying with me again?”

Lenore sighed. “I’m _offering_ you to share my bed.”

“So you can train me like the obedient dog you want?”

“I can teach you a trick or two, yes. It could be fun _and_ would make your talent into actual skill. But you can go to sleep in the other room since you don’t like me.”

“I…” Hector lowered his gaze. “I _did_ like you, and that’s the problem. You want me as your pet, something you can _own_. I… I… How can you expect me to accept that?”

“I don’t. That’s why I’m offering…”

“Slavery.”

“Happiness.”

Was she _serious_? How possibly he could be happy as a slave? And when he’d be useless, what his _happiness_ would worth?

Lenore hugged him, and her lavender perfume tickled his nose. “Tomorrow your smithy will be ready, so this is the last chance to spend our time together before work took all the nights for itself.”

‘Work’, so she called it. The night creatures’ army making was the only reason he was alive… and she called it ‘work’, like any other job. “Will the ring make me suffer if I don’t forge the creatures?”

“It won’t. It’s a security measure, not a torture instrument.” She let him go and opened the wardrobe. “However, why you should refuse?” she asked, undressing. Undisturbed by her own nudity, she bent forward on a drawer.

Hector’s mouth parched. Thank God she had her panties still on. “I…”

Lenore turned to him, with a blue nightgown in her hands. “If you want _anything else_ for your services, you just had to ask.” She put it on and untied her hair to brush them.

Hector forced himself to look away from her chest. “My freedom would be enough,” he coughed.

“Well, earn it.” She fell on the bed like a child. “You can start right now, spending the night with me.”

Hector lifted an eyebrow. “I think you’re overestimating my stamina.”

Lenore laughed. “I don’t expect you to fuck me all night long, _but_ I won’t stop you if you like to try.” She patted the spot next to her. “Just take me company.”

Resist would be useless. He could indulge her for the time being, maybe even have sex with her. Starting tomorrow, he’d did his best to avoid her. Making night creatures would be the perfect excuse, and then he’d sleep in the other room.

He sat on the bed, kicking away his boots, and she embraced him, resting her head on his chest. His heart accelerated again, so loud he could hear it.

Lenore kissed his pectoral and invited his arm around her waist. “Tell me something.”

Hector hugged her. “About what?”

“Whatever you want.”

Hector obliged and told her about a storybook he liked as a child. His favorite story was _The fisherman and the ifrit_. His heart slowly calmed down, sentence after sentence, as he stroked her hair while telling about how the fisherman found the jar where the ifrit was imprisoned, and he opened it out of curiosity. As a kid, he wished something similar for himself, but it never happened, so he had to save himself.

He fell asleep in the middle of the fisherman tricking the djinn.

Lenore already was.


	3. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I thought I couldn't make it this week. I'm beaten because of a minor health problem, but I really care about posting this chapter.  
> In the beginning, this chapter didn't exist. It came after your comments about Lenore, so I leave this note here to explain this: I merged the second chapter with the previous third one. So, before read this, you should go back to the second and read the second half of the chapter, or you could be confused.  
> I hope you will enjoy this 'extra' - t is for me, even if it doesn't seem like one to you.  
> As always, if you find something odd in grammar, please make me know: I worked on this particular chapter less than on the others. Thank you for your help!  
> I love you all!

Lenore woke up screaming. She sat on her legs and grabbed her arms to contain the tremor. Why, why was this happening again? Sleeping with someone else wasn’t enough, then? Tears fell from her eyes, and sobs escaped her lips.

“Lenore?”

Oh, no. she woke Hector. “I… I’m fine.” Every syllable was agony, but she hoped he didn’t notice. “Just give me a minute.”

Hector’s blurred figure stood still, but something warm touched her arm. It was his fingers. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t feel like it,” he whispered. “But…” He caressed her hand, and his warmth spread in her skin and, somehow, in her belly. “I will listen, if you…”

Lenore shook her head. She already took so much from him. And she’d do that even more in the next days. Taking advantage of him like that was too much. But she hugged him nevertheless.

His warm body was reassuring. Even if he was doing nothing, his presence banned the heaviness from her limbs. It was like a spell. He caressed her, and the fear vanished, little by little.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Lenore murmured, feeling calmer. “I just can’t control it.”

Hector held her more tightly. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Lenore looked up to him. For the first time in _centuries_ , she didn’t know how to go on in that conversation. She couldn’t give him such personal information. It would be suicidal, considering how many ways he could use them. And yet, she needed to spit them out.

Silence fell on them, as Hector’s hand moved up and down her spine. Electricity grew behind her, like an incoming storm knocking on her nape.

“It’s just… bad memories.” No matter what she did, that bastard came back, day after day, to haunt her. Even his _death_ wasn’t enough to keep him away.

“Vampires _literally_ don’t forget.”

Lenore pressed her forehead on his chest, smelling his scent. “Some of us still try.” Her bloodthirst roared, and the lust did too, but above them rose a new calmness. Her muscles relaxed, and the fear clawing on her stomach lost its grip.

“Do you think you can get some sleep?” Hector’s voice was soft, but not sleepy at all. He genuinely cared for her and was trying to help.

“I… I can try.” Why was he doing so much for her? “What if I wake you up again?”

“I will calm you down again. Every time you need.”

Lenore blinked. “I thought you hate me.”

Hector curled his lips for a few seconds too long. “I don’t.” He frowned. “I’m angry since you betrayed and enslaved me, but I don’t _hate_ you.”

Lenore bit her lips. “You really are too nice for your own good.”

“Somedays I think that too.”

“But it makes you cute.” And made even more marvellous the fact he became a Forgemaster. And a very skillful one, if Carmilla decided to drag him there from Braila.

“You mean gullible,” Hector corrected her, too plain for her taste.

Lenore puffed. “I said ‘cute’, I mean cute.” Hector was many things, but not gullible at all. If he had been, she wouldn’t have needed to put a slave ring on his finger. She had to use it since she couldn’t manipulate him and mould his will. It was a failure, from a working point of view. “I like you better this way.”

Hector looked at her puzzled.

“If you _were_ gullible, you wouldn’t be worth my time.” She made too many men dance on the palm of her hand. She was sick of them. “Gullible people are useful but untrustworthy. They save me time, but in a blink…” She snapped her fingers. “Someone else whispers in their ear and they change sides. They are like parrots, repeating the last thing they hear.”

“In the worst, twisted way possible, it almost sounds like a compliment.”

Lenore grinned. “Clever boy.” That was exactly the reason she liked him.

“Not enough to avoid your trap.” But more than he needed to set one of his own.

“That was pretty much legerdemain. And I almost failed.” She hid a yawn in his arm. “You were so good, I risked getting distracted. A little more and I would have let myself be carried away.”

“This is flattery.”

“It’s not. I sacrificed my third orgasm to the cause, you know?”

Hector rolled his eyes. “Your orgasm for my freedom… I’d call it cheap.”

Was he attempting humor? Quite a progress, considering his struggle to adapt to the situation. He really was a diamond in the rough. In time, he could bloom, and she’d help. Holding tight on this thought, she fell asleep again.

Moonlight wasn’t the best for reading, especially necromantic treatises in thick Carolingian minuscule.

Talking night creatures could be useful as army officers for diurnal operation, but they always came out by accident, and their souls weren’t always wise or trustworthy. If only he had found a way to choose the material to work with…

Fortunately, the library had an entire _corridor_ about necromancy. Almost half of them were about forging. Too many for his entire lifespan.

 _De corporum resurrectione_ wasn’t exactly what he was searching for, but a few of his rubricae[1] named the topic. Since he already discarded eight other tomes, he was willing to give it a chance.

For the moment, it seemed like a good idea. The chapter he was reading talked about resurrecting a freshly dead person, and how to find the soul in heavens or hell. The ritual was complex but luckily unnecessary. The juicy part was the one about actually looking for the soul among the other ones.

Even when he raised the Bishop of Targoviste, he was more a zombie than a revenant: formally alive, but soulless. Combine necromancy and forging would be an interesting improvement, even for just the sake of learning. Without the personal item, it would be harder, but not above his skills.

The item was needed to keep the necromancer linked to the soul since heaven and hell both could drive human mind mad. Heaven was so beautiful, Lothar Hildebrant said, he wandered too much and almost forgot why he went there in the first place. Unwelcoming angels reminded him. Hell, on the other hand, was a living nightmare, according to Malamhìn Ellise. Every turn was a new horror; in every shadow, a devil could hide, waiting to catch her off guard and take her captive. After her last travel, she hadn’t slept for two days.

But Lenore hadn’t been to hell. Her nightmares didn’t come from there. Of course. They were much worse.

Hector sighed and closed the book, pressing his forehead on the cover. How could a simple word bring her to his mind? Was he so weak? However much he tried to keep her out of his mind, last night hadn’t left him untouched.

Lenore had slept in his arms, after all, and something should have happened inside him. The more he looked at her, the less he found himself capable of holding a grudge against her. He had watched over her sleep like the good dog he didn’t mean to be. What a masterpiece it would be if Lenore tricked him again! But she wasn’t acting, didn’t she? The fear in her eyes was real; her tears too. So he had stroked her hair every time she moved or whined in her sleep. Little by little, she had calmed down, and he fell asleep too.

Thinking about it made him feel frustrated. How could he keep his distance, when she inspired him anything but spite? Even curiosity about his fucking _craft_ couldn’t keep her away. The silliest thought was enough to open his mind’s doors to her.

“Hector?”

Oh, great! Now she was there for real!

“I was positive to find you here.” Lenore’s voice caressed his ear a second before her arms encircled his shoulders. “It’s almost dinner time.”

Already? How had elapsed all that time unnoticed?

“But we have a meeting, first. If we’re lucky, it won’t take too long.”

“A meeting? About what?”

“Morana and Striga have some questions for you, about your creatures and the bodies you need.”

And was there a need for a meeting? The sisters didn’t seem interested in being polite with him. Carmilla certainly wasn’t. maybe it was for a practical purpose he couldn’t think about.

“I had no idea you knew Latin.”

“Having an alchemist as a father helps.” Hector shrugged. It was more despite than because of him, but even his crumbs were a lot for his hungry mind.

Lenore clapped gleefully. “I _have_ to recommend you a book, then! It’s one of my favorites, and I think you will love it!” She vanished in mist and flew to another section of the library. In a matter of minutes, she was back with a massive book bound in red leather. Its spine and cover said it was _Historia Apollonii regis Tyri_ , by Ignotus. “It isn’t always believable, but you should give it a chance if you like novels.” Lenore smiled, handing him the tome.

Hector took it, too astonished to say anything.

“It’s my way to thank you for today,” she explained, blushing.

For a moment, Hector felt the urge to kiss her again. But he didn’t have to. He knew, and yet he couldn’t cast her away, not having her standing in front of him that way. “Lenore…” He sighed, leaving the book on the table. “I’d rather you tell me about the nightmares. Are they recurring?”

“I won’t wake you up every single day screaming if that’s your concern.” Her eyes narrowed, and wrinkles popped up on the nose root. “But you can still sleep in your chambers if you feel uncomfortable.”

“That’s not my point.” Hector bit his lips. He was risking to give her another weapon. “I’m worried about you.” He had no idea why, but he couldn’t help it. Leaving her alone was _wrong_. “You can talk to me.” He cupped her face. “Please, do.”

Lenore closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled. “Such a shame we have no time for that. You know, the meeting…”

“You’re stubborn.” But he followed her.

[1] A rubrica is some kind of abstract ante litteram: especially in Middle Ages it was used to summarize the content of a chapter. It was helpful in very long or miscellaneous books, both in fiction and non-fiction. Its name came from the red ink it was wrote with.


	4. Crow

Lenore kissed Hector on his cheek. “Rise and shine, my cute boy. The moon is up, and we have a long night waiting for us.”

Hector opened one eye, and then the other.

She smiled. “Breakfast is on the desk; just be careful with the mail.”

He blinked and sat, looking around like a lost child. Slowly he came back to his senses and stand to take his seat at the desk.

“These clothes don’t do justice your beauty,” Lenore said, choosing a silver shirt and black pair of trousers from the wardrobe. It seemed a waste having such a handsome pet and not primp him properly. “I insisted we should have called a tailor, but Morana didn’t agree, so you’ll have to adapt to what I could provide. At least, I guessed your size.” She smirked.

He was so defenseless when he blushed… almost delicious. Such a pity she couldn’t see since he was eating. But his heartbeat was clear and worked just fine.

“I’ll show you your smithy first. Morana was faster than I thought with the corpses’ problem, so you’ll have to get to work straight away, I’m afraid.”

“Well, it’s the reason I’m still alive, isn’t it?” Hector pointed out, wearing the boots. “So I had to if I want thing stay this way.”

“Such a clever boy, my Hector,” she complimented him. Well, it wasn’t his only purpose, but she was confident he knew. “Now come, if you’re ready.”

Hector followed her.

The smithy was in the basement, near the corridor which led to the courtyard, so the corpses’ supplying could be the fastest since they couldn’t keep them in a heated room.

“We had to adapt a storage room, so it took a while to bring her the heating,” she explained, opening the door, “but I refused to make you work in an icebox.”

“How considerate of you.”

“It is, since Morana objected it would be easier if we could store the corpses in the smithy.” She entered first, showing him around.

The room seemed like an infirmary, with tables instead of beds, with fresh corpses on them. Between one lane and the other two soldiers could easily walk, but there wasn’t much space between one table and the next.

“Thither there’s the exit, so the creatures and the soldiers won’t hinder each other. I know it’s not too comfortable, but I hope you like it.”

“It’s… efficient, I think.”

“Nice. I let you work, now, so be a good boy and kiss me.”

Hector pursed his lips, but he leaned on her for a quick kiss. Considering he was the one every day watched on her sleep, he could do better, but it was a start.

Lenore smiled. “Good boy.” She let him at his forging and came back upstairs.

Carmilla, Striga and Morana were already in the Council Room, sitting at their chairs.

“Have you finished playing the nice owner, sister?” Morana welcomed her, sipping blood from her chalice.

“Patience, my sister. When I’m done with Hector, these rings will be just toys. No chain is stronger than loyalty.” She knew better than anyone.

“So you’ll fuck him until he’ll fall in love with you?” Carmilla asked.

Lenore laughed. “Of course not! That’s just for fun.” She poured blood for herself and sipped it. “But how I train my pet isn’t tonight’s topic, isn’t it?”

“It won’t until it cost us a fortune,” Morana specified.

“So we can concentrate on the biggest plan,” Carmilla said. “We have the soldiers, we have the mercenaries to turn into night creatures, and we have the rings to control them. Now we need just one more thing.”

“To cover our backs, so the Holy Roman Empire won’t try to invade Styria while we move forward to east.” Lenore grinned. They never really accepted Styria’s independence, but the Empire was already a drunk giant with a broken leg, in her perspective. Sooner or later, it would fall. “I can pull some strings. It happens that I just have some Hungarian _friends_ who should fit for the job.”

“And what your friends could ask for their cooperation?”

“Just some tax relief on duties _if_ I’ll feel so magnanimous to let them.”

Morana sighed. “I’ll always be astonished by your… persuasive skills.”

“I think the word you were searching for was manipulative, my dear,” Striga intervened. As a General, she was clever, but she didn’t grasp politics’ nuances.

Lenore loved her for that too. “If you don’t need me further, I’ll be in my chambers, writing my _manipulative_ letters.” She emptied her chalice and rushed upstairs.

Hector’s breakfast was taken away by the servant who made the bed, and the chamber now smelled lavender like any other night.

Lenore sat at her desk and took a waxed tablet and a stylus to write down the first draft. She let it decant for an hour, reading _Historia de duobus amantibus_ that the current Siena bishop sent her; then she reread what she wrote, polished the sentences and copied the result on perfumed paper. She sealed the letter with blue wax and called for a servant who sent it. Nothing in the world could convince her to step into the aviary. Human servants existed for a reason.

One of them knocked on her door.

“Come in!”

“Lunch is ready, Your Highness,” the woman announced. “Where do you want it to be served?”

“Here. Have a table brought, and set it.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Lenore smiled and waited the woman was on the stairs, before leaving her chamber. She went to the smithy, where soldiers were carrying new corpses inside. So Hector was working hard, after all.

Her Forgemaster was in fact in the middle of creation. He showed her his shoulders, beyond which she could glimpse a blue glow. He lifted his arm, revealing his magic-imbued hammer, and he dropped it on the table. Magic flowed and enveloped the corpse, changing it into a purple-skinned monster with a bat head and blue eyes. “Go with the others,” Hector ordered, and the creature stood up, walking toward the exit.

Lenore clapped. “I never saw a Forgemaster working,” she said, going through the soldiers, who gave her way as they could, shrinking between the tables. “I’ve to admit it’s… enlightening.”

Hector looked at her, his lips trembling like he could smile any moment now.

“You’re doing such good work,” she continued, dismissing the guards, “but it’s already lunchtime, so it would be nice to spend it together.”

“So I’m not condemned to rot here until my job is done?” Hector’s eyebrow was lifted, as he spoke, and his voice sounded amused.

“Of course not!” she protested, girdling his neck with her arms. “You’re mine. I’m just lending you to their scheme for a bit.”

Hector scowled, but she kissed his pout anyway, and ‘convinced’ him to surrender. His body relaxed, and his hands squeezed her hips.

“Come, now. Lunch should be already on the table.” And she wasn’t an exhibitionist. Especially not for Striga’s soldiers.

She took Hector to her chamber, where a nice round table was set for two. A pitcher full of blood and a crystal chalice were on her side; Hector’s food was under a silver dish cover.

“Why are you so opposed to being my pet?” she asked, seating.

“Wouldn’t you, in my shoes?” he asked back, uncovering his meal – a soup, some kind of red meat with vegetables, and a slice of pie.

Lenore smiled, pouring the blood. “I feel more comfortable in _my_ shoes, obviously, but…” She let the blood dance against the crystal. The last time someone tried to enslave her went very _wrong_ for the bastard, but the first… if it wasn’t for Carmilla, she wouldn’t be there. “If I was in your shoes… well, how can I say it? I’m not a diplomat for nothing.”

“So you’re suggesting I should use my skills to do… what? Gain from this situation? Even try to turn the tide in my favor?” Hector took her hand and kissed its back.

Where did all this baldness come from? Even if it was just a charade, it was kind of thrilling.

He stood up, got around the table and hugged her from behind. “Aren’t you afraid to become _my_ slave, Lenore?”

The situation was so _delicious_ it’d be a crime to waste it. She leaned back and lifted her eyes to meet his. “Should I?”

Hector’s façade tottered. His lips parted, but no answer came out.

“Are you the kind of man who likes to break his toys? Have you ever trapped a dragonfly just to rip its wings off?”

“O-Of course not!”

Lenore imagined to pin him on the bed and overwhelm him with her lust. A consistent part of her body was trying to convince her he wanted it. He spent all those days hugging and caressing her… But she knew better, so she exhaled. “Me neither.” Until the toy tried to escape, but it was an unnecessary detail. “I _fix_ things, Hector. Striga breaks them, and then I come to bring peace.”

“I thought it was a dove’s duty.”

“Doves are nice,” she conceded, smirking, “but numbskulls.” People deemed of her like that, usually. A cute brainless little girl. They underestimated her until the crow came out. Hector did too and gained a slavery ring on his finger. “Crows are loyal _and_ smart. If you hurt a crow, its _whole_ murder will hate you all life long.”

“Are you threatening me, now?”

Lenore sighed. “Why you take everything in the worst way possible?”

Hector came back to his seat, so Lenore took his left hand.

“I meant you could earn that loyalty. Would it be so bad to be part of something for once?”


	5. Celebration

“I don’t understand why you’re putting so much effort in something so trivial.”

Lenore buttoned his shirt up to his neck and helped him to wear a blue waistcoat and a black justacorps. “ _Because_ we’re celebrating, and you’re the guest of honor: without your hard work, none of this could be possible.”

Hector let her dress him like a doll and stole her a kiss. It was _her_ suggestion, after all. “So you’ll finally free me from this ring?”

“We’ll see how this night goes.” She offered him her elbow and took him downstairs.

The Council Room was the usual, except for a little change: near the blood’s gold-bordered pitcher there were two bottles of wine. For someone who deceived, captivated, beaten, almost-tortured, and enslaved him, it could be considered a warm welcome.

At least, Carmilla, Striga and Morana weren’t glaring hostilely at him, nor making sarcastic comments. They behaved or at least pretended to.

Lenore slid her arm around his waist and escorted (or he should say ‘shepherded’?) him to his seat. She poured the blood for her sisters and smiled. “Red or white?”

“Red.”

Carmilla’a lips trembled, as Lenore filled his chalice, but she smiled to her and nodded.

Lenore showed her cute, ominous smile, serving herself last. “Tonight we celebrate the hard work that brought us nearer to realize our beloved Queen’s dream. There is nothing our synergy can’t accomplish. Especially now.”

Carmilla raised her glass. “To Greater Styria!”

“To the Styrian Empire!” Morana and Striga echoed.

“To Greater Styria!”

Could he accept that fate? Even an imperial pet was still a pet, and seating at their table could be merely cosmetic. But it was too late to falter. That was his chance; his freedom was handy. He couldn’t lose it, so he raised the glass too. “To Greater Styria,” he toasted and drank.

Lenore leaned on him. “Good boy,” whispered in his ear, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Please, sister, spare us your… endearments,” Carmilla sneered, too mocking for his taste.

But that offered him a chance. Now or never. “I have to thank you, Your Majesty,” Hector said, looking into the Queen’s eyes like they were peers, “for taking me to Styria. You gave me the chance to meet my fate, so I want to return the gift.”

Carmilla arched an eyebrow but didn’t stop him.

Lenore’s hand squeezed his arm, as he stood up. Was there wonder in her eyes or terror?

“My Forgemaster skills are at your service. I’ll do whatever I can to realize your dream. My loyalty, tough…” He took Lenore’s hand and kissed her ring. “It only belongs to you.”

Maybe it was a hallucination, or she was just pretending, but for a moment Lenore looked flushed.

Then Carmilla clapped. “You trained him better than I thought, sister.”

Lenore grinned. “Such a good behavior deserves a reward, so if you excuse us…” She didn’t even wait for the answer (just the waving of a hand) and dragged him in the corridor to kiss him against a wall.

“Can’t you wait to get to our chamber?”

Lenore _vibrated_ in his arms. “You’re on the right path to make me fuck you right here.”

“So let me carry you.” He picked her up and bring her to the bedroom. She was so light he couldn’t believe how easily she has beaten the shit out of him. 

Lenore fell on the bed and pulled him with herself. “You were… splendid,” she exhaled, fondling his cheek. “Her face will be one of my favorite memories for _decades_.”

Hector kissed her wrist. “I meant what I said.” He treaded her forearm to her elbow, and then her stomach, chest and neck. “Every single word.”

Lenore glared at him. “So you didn’t say it to make me remove the ring?”

“Why should I? Since I’m not planning to betray or harm you, this is like any other ring. Moreover, it makes it easier for you to control the night creatures, so I’m fine with keeping it a little longer.”

“So what do you want?”

Oh, so she sensed it already? As he could expect from such a clever girl. He smiled. “Your loyalty, of course.” It was too soon to ask her more. “And I’ll do anything to earn it. I’ll serve you the world on a silver plate if you ask me to because you worth it.”

Lenore rode him, inviting his hands to undress her. “I have just one condition,” she whispered on his lips. “You’ll never have to make me choose between you and my sisters.”

Because she’d have chosen them, or because she’d have hesitated? “Fair enough. I won’t.”

Lenore kissed him.

Hector loosened her dress, opening it on the front to expose her breasts. He kissed and groped them gently, and sucked on her left nipple like a baby. To be finally able to touch her was even better then he imagined. “Lenore…” he exhaled on her skin.

“I’m here, Hector.”

“I know, and I feel so _lucky_.”

Her eyes were like sunset every time she smiled. They gleamed and whispered secrets to his soul. Even if it was another of her deceits, he couldn’t care less. She was Mother Nature’s masterpiece, and no dress could embellish her more than her own skin. It was pale and cold, but soft; such a shame no mark would last on it.

Hector made her stand to slide her dress to the floor, and keeled in front of Lenore, kissing her belly like a worshipper. He went down on her pubes and thighs, and then lower to her feet. “I’m yours. I belong to you. I’ll be loyal to you,” he whispered, kissing her ankle and calf.

Her toes caressed his side and bared his back, playing with the thrill that snaked under his skin. Every movement exposed her black lace’s panties, setting his rock-hard boner on fire.

He ducked his nose in her panties, licking them on the entrance of her fruit. “I need you, Lenore,” he murmured, clinging on her hips.

She brushed his hair. “My good boy…” Her voice was light, almost tender.

Hector exhaled, closing his eyes. “Say it. Please…”

“Of course you can have me, Hector. As much as you want.”

He ripped her panties off and pushed her on the bed. “You’re… stunning, in so many ways.” It was worth it to wait if he could have her like that. Even pledging loyalty with the same words of his enslavement was a fine price. A bit histrionic, but she seemed pleased with his performance. And he hadn’t even started.

Lenore clutched his nape, sinking her fingers in his silver hair. “So I’m not _average_?” she chucked.

“Let me apologize for that.” He spread her legs and labia to lick her interior.

It was _drenched_ in hot, salty juices. The taste was softer than he remembered but still made him quiver.

He found her clitoris with his tongue and played with it, while his fingers made space inside of her and pressed on her soft spot.

Lenore arched, inhaling with her mouth, and pressed firmly on his head.

Hector sucked on her clit, torturing it until her legs trembled and her moans became shrill.

Her fingers slid through his hair, down to his chin, and lifted it so he can look in her eyes. “You’re too dressed for what we’re doing. Unclothe, now.”

“You’re so demanding, my lady…” But that was exactly what he wanted. He got up and removed the justacorps, the waistcoat, the shirt, the shoes, and just lastly the trousers.

“Why are you so slow?” Lenore puffed. “I _need_ you inside of me.”

Because he wanted that impatience, of course. He even bore with the agony of the cloth imprisoning his boner, only to catch that glimpse in her eyes. “Your desire is my command, Your Highness.” He entered her slowly, savoring every inch like it was the first and last. When his tip reached her womb, he leaned on her for a kiss, resting for a moment before putting her legs on his shoulder. “I won’t let you go until I’ll be sated. It could take a while.”

“If you intended it like a threat, it didn’t work,” Lenore jested.

Hector grinned. “I’d call it a promise.” 

“Then you better keep it.”

He groped the front of her thighs and thrust in her depths, sinking in her juices. Every dive was a wet noise, followed by the clap of their clashing hips. He’d never imagined it could be so _aphrodisiac_ to hear. “Lenore, Lenore…”

“I’m here, Hector.”

She was, and yet she felt too far. He pushed her thighs into her chest, exposing her vagina. He could even see where they became one, as he gave her all his lust – and something more. He leaned on her to kiss and suck her neck. He craved her lips, but her moans were necessary, searching for her climax.

It was like playing a soft, living clavichord. Every inch of skin was a potential key, capable of making her moan. Her voice was music, and she was a soprano.

He only had to let her _sing_. So he chased her pleasure, following her voice’s shades. It was almost torture, but he waited for her peak, before allowing himself to cum. He let her legs go and gradually slowed down the pace to prolong the afterglow.

Lenore caressed his cheek. “I was wrong,” she murmured, breathing deeply. “You don’t need training; just the right mood.”

Hector laid down next to her, while their genitals were still united, and took her leg on his hips, as he kissed her lightly.

Lenore played with his lips. “Are you still eager?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry. That’s not important.”

“Of course it is. You’re mine.” She stated it like it was a matter of fact and pushed him down.

He tried to answer it was unnecessary, but she rode him like a Valkyrie, and he was too enveloped in delight to renounce light-heartedly.

Lenore kissed him. “You’ve been good once more, so enjoy your reward.”

Hector groped her buttocks, helping her to choose the rhythm, as he thrust from below. She let him, so it was easy. “Lenore, Lenore…” He sucked on her nipple, and she tilted her head back, moaning. So he tried to roll over her again.

“Don’t rush, pretty boy,” she stopped him. “It’s my turn to make you feel good.” She hugged him, moving her hips faster and faster, so he no longer knew where one’s movements ended and the other’s started.

Hector cummed again and rested on her shoulder. “You smell so nice… especially after sex.”

“The convenience of being a vampire. I’m the nicest predator of all times.”

“You sound like a carnivore plant.”

“ _This_ isn’t nice at all. You’re lucky you’re cute,” she said, lying down again.

Hector laughed softly. How rare. How long hadn’t he been doing this? Almost a whole life. He closed his eyes. “No one ever praised me so much.”

“No one saw your worth before.” Her fingertips slid on his temple, zygoma, and mandible. It was relaxing.

“How did you?”

“Look into peoples’ soul is my job.”

“I thought it was… talking?”

“Talking isn’t just speaking. It requires listening too. You had to understand what your interlocutor is saying… and what they aren’t. Silence is even more communicative.”

“So you have just… read my soul and decided to give me what I wanted?”

“Usually commerce works that way. You being so handsome helped, though. If you were an ugly old man, probably I’d never cared to look deeper.”

“You’d let Carmilla and Morana torture me?”

“I could, but you… caught my interest.”

“Trying to blackmail you? How lucky of me.”

“Well, you gave me the chance to taste your blood.” Lenore grinned like that day. “But your… other qualities are more remarkable than your taste.”

“I hope so.” He stretched to kiss her and finally remembered he still was inside of her. He exited but didn’t let her go.

Lenore held him tight and pulled up the covers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hector's new clothes finally arrived. Yes, I’m aware they are historically inaccurate, but I hope you’ll forgive me: I just couldn’t make him wear [this ludicrous outfit](https://i.imgur.com/C6YFyVa.jpg). Moreover, _Castlevania_ never tried to be so.  
> This is my very first time in writing sex in a language that isn't my native one. Even if I read about it, I still feel lacking in terminology, so let me know if it sounds off. I don't feel confident at all on this, so any advice is welcome.


	6. To the Greater Styria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!  
> I'm sorry for these weeks of silence, but my computer broke at the end of July, and then I went on vacation with my sisters. We've been in the mountain house (in the middle of nowhere!), so it was sort of a no-wifi zone. Now I'm back, so I'll post the chapters as usual.  
> I'm thinking about posting twice a week to come back on track with the schedule. Wednesday could be a good day? Let me know if you like the idea!

Hector was asleep.

Lenore looked at him from her desk, smiling.

He’d never know, but his presence worked where Carmilla’s boys still failed. And he even exceeded her expectations, in so many ways. Her sisters couldn’t tease her about him anymore. It was his craft to give Striga a new, shiny army to lead into battle.

And now that lord Jenci’s letter had arrived, the last mosaic tile was at its place.

She opened it.

_My dear Lenore,_

_I hope this letter of mine will find you in good health._

_I followed your suggestion and I’ve been fishing on the Danube with some friends. It was a windy day, but we were lucky: the biggest sturgeon I’ve ever seen took line and hook. Without everyone’s cooperation, it’d escape, but alas, it had to surrender to our might._

_I hope you’ll come to visit soon and have a taste. Maybe you can bring some of that magnificent Ruländer you offered me last time._

_With all my love,_

_Kultsár_

_P.S.: Did you hear about the night creatures in Genoa? Their Forgemaster caused such a ruckus! Can you believe it?_

Despite some hitches, everything went smoothly. And now that foppish nobleman was expecting a reward. Even a slice of the polish cake, maybe. Assuming his ‘sturgeon’ was as big as he averred, they could negotiate.

She’d wanted to know at least who his ‘friends’ were. Were they trustworthy, or mere business partners? Could they keep their mouths shut?

She sighed, biting on the stylus. It was too soon for visiting the Council Room. Probably Striga and Morana were still in bed. She should be too.

Hector’s heartbeat and breath were changing. “Lenore…?”

“I’m here. Go back to sleep: it’s still evening.”

He stood, unbothered by his own nudity, and came to hug her. “Not without you. This is _your_ bedtime, after all.” He kissed her neck recess, and then the skin under the ear. “Who’s this man who calls you ‘dear’?”

Was he jealous? It’d be fun. “An associate.” She turned around to kiss him. “He’s an ugly old man I wouldn’t lay a finger on, but also the kind of neighbor you want as a friend.” Until he didn’t stab you in the back, at least. “He’ll keep the Empire busy while we conquer Poland.”

Hector kissed his teeth, but followed her to bed.

“Moreover, do you know other Forgemasters? It seems one of them caused trouble in Genoa, a few weeks ago.”

“I did, but he’s probably dead by now. We both worked for Dracula, but Isaac had a tighter relationship with him. I think he worshipped him; maybe he even knew about his real plans. I wouldn’t be surprised if he agreed with humanity’s extinction: he had… a quite short temper.”

“So he probably fought for his master until his last breath.”

“I think so.”

Lenore laid her head on Hector’s chest. “Remind me to thank Carmilla for bringing you here. I’ll think of a present.”

He chuckled and his chest trembled. “Isn’t an empire enough?”

“You made a point. Sleep, now.”

Hector embraced her and closed his eyes.

Lenore smiled, but her brain never really stopped. Even now, it was working on her answer, choosing the proper adjective between three or four options. She continued the _labor limae_ way beyond sunset, and she wouldn’t stop if it wasn’t for the persistent knocking on her door.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Your Highness, but Her Majesty demands your presence in the Council Room.”

“Tell her I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The maid’s footsteps walked away.

Lenore got out of the bed and dressed as fast as she could.

“Do you need help?” Hector asked.

She shook her head. “I’m ready.” She wore her shoes and kissed him. “I’ll be right back. Don’t get dressed.” Then she headed out before Carmilla could think of coming herself.

Her sisters were having breakfast. Striga was in full armor, so Morana settled for staying at her side. Carmilla was playing with her chalice, making the blood dance inside it.

“I’ll be home before you miss me, my love,” Striga said.

“As you always do, but it won’t stop me to feel your absence,” Morana replied, with the same straight face of her monthly reports.

Carmilla rolled her eyes, but they knew it was a pose and didn’t care anymore. “So we’ll send you to victory with a toast.” She lifted her chalice. “Go, sister, and came back with a Greater Styria under your arm. Show us how near the future can be.”

“Oh, and don’t forget souvenirs, this time,” Lenore chuckled.

“I highly doubt my memento could win over Carmilla’s. You seem quite fondle of your pet.”

“But Carmilla is our wise and kind Queen. She just can’t lose.”

“Well, this Queen could appreciate a new proper crown for her Empress coronation.”

“Pillaging a church or two will do,” Morana considered. “Just don’t overwork, my dear.”

Striga kissed her. “I better go, now.” She drank her blood, kissed Morana once more and departed.

“We’ll accompany you to the doors,” Carmilla said.

They took a gemstone formation, with Striga in the front, Carmilla in the back, and Lenore and Morana at their sides.

The army was ready, waiting in the valley. Vampire soldiers were at the head of the column; Hector’s blue-eyed creatures closed the line, arranged in neat ranks. They all looked at their General like she was the moon, and followed her steps until she was at her lieutenants’ side.

“To Greater Styria!” Carmilla saluted her.

“To Greater Styria!” Striga and her army roared.

Morana smiled, waving her off.

Lenore sighed, looking at her sister’s mutual love. What a mysterious thing it was.


	7. Isaac

The castle was empty. His smithy was still there, but no other bodies came inside for him to forge. The silence was peaceful… and boring.

Hector sighed. Lenore was working, now more than ever, so he had nothing to do, at least until dawn. He had tried to read, but staying focused was too hard, with her in kissing range. Walking around the castle was the only way to distract himself from her soft, fragrant skin.

A soldier nodded at him.

He probably wouldn’t stop him, if he tried to head out. Now that he _could_ run away, he simply didn’t _want_ to. How ironic. And comforting, too. He was safe and happy like he always dreamed of. He could finally rest.

A loud explosion shook the castle.

Had he spoken too soon?

A second explosion answered yes.

“Goddamit.” His mind ran in two different directions: upstairs, to Lenore, and to the smithy, where he left his hammer and knife. Was this his punishment for feeling too safe? Well, he wouldn’t let anyone ruin this. Not after all his efforts to make it work.

He took the shortcut to the basement, hurtling through the corridor and the stairs. His heart pumped blood into his ears, roaring like a waterfall. His lungs were a furnace where the air became solid and heavier than lead. When was the last time he was so _terrified_? Never, since he didn’t ever have something to lose, before.

The smithy was empty.

Hector shelled inside and hid behind a pillar, looking for his instruments.

They were on the table where he forged the last creature.

He sprinted to catch them and rolled behind a shelf, while a screech clawed his eardrums. His heart thumped: it was a night creature’s sound. So a Forgemaster was in the castle. But why? And who?

The red-eyed snake creature that entered the smithy gave him the answer.

Isaac. So he was alive. How he survived? Was him in Genoa? Why he was there, and why he came to Styria? For him, or Carmilla? Or both? His head was spinning. Lenore. If Isaac tried to hurt Carmilla, she wouldn’t stay put. He had to stop him before he even tried. 

The snake creature screeched, calling for his kind.

Three of his siblings came down the corridor and into the smithy, destroying everything on their path.

Hector cursed and hold tight on his knife. He would make Isaac pay for ruining Lenore’s gift. He stood and attacked the nearest monster.

It didn’t hear him until his blade was in its eye and it was already too late. But the others saw him and lifted their claws.

Hector dodged them and downed his hammer on a blue bat-monster’s temple. Such a shame he couldn’t turn a night creature in a new one.

There still were the other two to go. They attacked together, but they were uncoordinated. Stupid minions; his weren’t so sloppy.

Hector evaded their touch and stabbed one’s throat, hammering the other’s face. He bent to get the knife back, spitting on the useless corpse. Their blood went in his mouth, and on his clothes. Damn Isaacs. He ran out, looking around. Where he was? How to find him?

He maybe went ahead, searching for Carmilla in the depth of the castle.

Hector wasn’t sure, but the direction was good as any other. And led him to Lenore. So he followed, turning left and hiding behind a wall.

The castle was invaded. From the distance came the echo of soldiers fighting night creatures. Just a few were still in the castle, but they _had_ to be enough. No one else would come to the rescue.

He peeked around the corner.

A black werewolf patrolled the corridor, walking back and forth.

Hector waited for the beast to give him its shoulders, then hammered it on the nape.

The creature howled, turning to face him, but his blade in the left eye shut its mouth. Not fast enough, though, to remain unheard by the others.

“Fuck.” Hector avoided the claws of a lizardmen and killed it ripping its throat. There was no time for cursing more. He had to kill a chimeric creature and a bloodhoundish one before he could pass through.

But going ahead didn’t improve the situation: the more he killed, the more they seemed to pop up. And he still was in the basement. Growls and screeches came from upstairs, calling out for each other.

Hector ran, climbing the stairs two steps at a time. His heart was beating so fast it could open up his rib case like the castle’s double swing door. When he got upstairs, he had to lean against the wall to catch his breath. He’d curse, but the fear to be heard sewed his lips.

But the entrance hall was empty. No man, vampire or creature walked in the shadow of the double staircase, nor behind the balustrade.

Did he lose them? Where they too far inside the castle? There was too much noise, so he couldn’t tell where it came from. But he didn’t care. Lenore was his only thought, so he went on, over the hall, its’ stairs, the corridors. Where they were? Why he couldn’t hear the fighting? Could fear make him insane?

“We finally meet again, Hector.” Isaac’s voice came from around the corner, where the corridor opened in a square stairwell. He sat on the last steps, surrounded by his creatures. “It was a long journey, from Tunis. Master Dracula saved my life, and now I can return the favor… avenging his death.”

“You’re wasting your time, Isaac. Dracula’s death wasn’t my doing.”

“Not entirely, but you still will pay for your treason. And so will Carmilla.” Isaac showed him his knife. “Don’t intervene,” he ordered to his creatures. “It’s our business.” And then he brought it on.


	8. Sisterhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! How are you? We've arrived in the last chapters. I know they are the shortest, but that could be because I found them the hardest to write. But I don't want to make excuses. I just hope you'll enjoy them nevertheless.  
> I thought about writing more, merging some chapters, but it didn't feel right. I don't know how to express this. Like... this was not just the right amount of words, but the right number of scenes. Probably it doesn't make sense, but alas.  
> See you later.

The castle was under attack. Enemies were swarming inside it from everywhere, so similar to Hector’s creatures, except for their red glowing eyes. War cries and the battle’s metallic echo covered everything with their noise.

Lenore sighed, pushing yet another creature on the red carpet in the middle of the corridor.

Its blood gushed out of the gash on its throat, staining her shoes.

“Great,” she hissed. If she’d found the bastard who invaded the castle, she’d make him regret to be born. But first, she had to find Hector.

He had let her work, so he probably was in the library, searching for some bizarre philosophy book. Or so she hoped. If he went to the garden… no, no. she couldn’t be so unlucky. Not now.

“Damn.” She wanted to scream his name, but that would attract so many monsters she’d never find her pretty boy. And they already were too much by themselves. An encouragement to hinder her was unnecessary. She kicked the air.

Steps were approaching, light as feathers.

Lenore hid.

The nearing shadow wasn’t a soldier nor a beast. The rubbing of her dress on the carpet followed.

“Morana.” Lenore hugged her, pulling her behind a pillar. She could smell the dry blood, but it wasn’t her sister’s. “Have you fought?”

“As much as you.”

“What the hell is happening?”

“I’ve just a hunch, but we’ll figure out later. Now we had to rid out of these beasts and their Forgemaster.”

Lenore nodded. Probably they had the same hunch.

“About that, where is your pet?”

“Not in my chamber.”

Morana looked at her like she’d say something, but she sighed instead and smiled.

Lenore did too. “Carmilla?”

“In her game room, I hope.”

They all had so much free time, in those days. Except for her. “Do you need help?”

Morana shook her head. “Go looking for him. I’ll take care of our beloved Queen.”

Course she would. Striga loved her for more than one reason, after all. “We’ll meet you in the Council Room.”

“And then we’ll toast.” Morana grinned. “The lazy killer buys the drinks.”

“You know how I like it,” Lenore tried to play, but none of them was in the mood. So she nodded. “See you later, sister.”

Morana kissed her on the cheek and ran away.

Lenore followed her steps until the echo vanished, then walked to the library.

Its doors were open like a mother’s arms, but from inside it just destruction noises came. The night creatures inside it had to be at least a dozen. If Hector was there…

No. _If_ he was there, he was resisting. No stupid night creature could kill him. But she had to see by herself, so she transfigured into a cloud of bats and overflew the library.

The monsters looked up to her, forgetting for a moment their destruction plan. Books and manuscripts fell from their claws and mouths, in such a state that no one could ever read them.

In another day, Lenore would have ripped off their eyes and limbs, and thought about kidnapping Gutenberg himself to save the books. With Hector unsafe, she couldn’t care less.

There wasn’t blood she could smell, and that was good. The creatures were raging on the books just for the sake of it.

She drew circles upon their heads, looking between the bookshelves, especially philosophy ones. Hector wasn’t there, and she didn’t need to know more to leave the library. But where the hell was her pretty boy?

Lenore flew to the stairs, and here she heard it: Hector’s voice, shouting to the black man he was fighting.

“Dracula was a fool! His plan was insane!”

“The only fool, here, it’s you!” the man replied, charging him with a glowing knife.

Lenore screeched, diving on him. She wouldn’t let him touch her precious Hector.

“Lenore, no!”

She bit the bastard, but that form was weak, so she returned her vampire self to hit him in the guts.

The Forgemaster spat air, but his recovery was faster than she thought. He struck back, but his blade cut just the void.

She kneed his stomach and blew his back with her elbow. It had worked with Hector; with that asshole, it didn’t.

He somehow stood on his feet and stabbed her chest.

Lenore coughed blood. Her heart was safe, at least, but the bastard had punctured her lung. She fell on the stairs, looking at Hector through the black curtain closing on her eyes.

“You monster!” he roared, standing between her and his ex-colleague.

“No, Hector… don’t…” she tried, but every word was a new stab loosening the hole.

He didn’t flinch, nor answer. His wide shoulders were steady, his heartbeat calm. “I won’t let you take her from me.” His voice was cold and sharp like she never heard it. Even when he hated her, he never used such a tone.

In her last sip of consciousness before the dark, Lenore grinned, betting her life on him.


	9. One last fight

Isaac was too quiet, even for his standards. “Who is she?”

“None of your business.”

“So you care for her.” Isaac stepped forward. “I could spare her if you ask me nicely. We were coworkers, once.”

And now he came to kill him. “Spare me your craps, instead. I won’t let you touch her.” Hector clenched his fist on the knife and aimed for his neck.

Isaac deflected the blade with his and punched him in the face. His knuckles cracked, or was his own teeth? The second punch didn’t let him think about it.

Hector rolled on his side to avoid it and stabbed Isaac in his calf.

He screamed, and yet he didn’t call for help. How noble of him. He should have considered himself lucky since his tendon was intact. If he surrendered, Hector would have let him rot in a cell for the rest of his days. Isaac chose to knee him, holding on his shoulder.

They fell on the floor, tangling and rolling in the attempt of subduing each other. Hector lost the knife to grab Isaac’s wrist, pushing the blade away from his eye; Isaac was doing the same with his hammer. They were stalled.

“Fuck!” Hector cursed, biting on Isaac’s right forearm.

He screamed, but he didn’t let the knife go. “You sick bastard! Why betray master Dracula for them?”

“I didn’t! Dracula was insane, and I was brought here as a prisoner!”

“Well, you don’t look like one.” Isaac’s forehead found his nose. “You won’t escape your punishment.”

A constellation of white spots dotted his field of view, but Hector clenched his fists and fought Isaac back. “I won’t let you ruin my life!” He was happy there like Dracula couldn’t make him in a million years. As if he would. That happiness worthed more than everything. “You and your fucking _obsession_ can go to hell!” He screamed and let the hammer go to use both hands on Isaac’s wrist and turn the knife on his throat. He pressed, but Isaac pushed him back. Hector hissed in frustration and pressed on the blade with all his weight.

Isaac kicked him away, but he bled too much and couldn’t stand.

Hector could and did. “This is what you deserve.” He pressed his boot on Isaac’s throat. “I hope to use your soul, next time I forge a night creature, just for the pleasure to send you to die again.” He grinned and pressed harder. “You understand, right?”

Isaac tried to grab his ankle. His fingers slipped and fell on the floor. He was crying. Or perhaps it was only the choking side-effect.

Well, time to end it.

“Let him go, human, or we kill her.” A monster with a fly’s head and too many arms came forward, escorted by a werewolf and a naga.

The snake-like creature hissed, showing him Lenore, held tight in its coils. It had nippleless breasts, and black, hissing snakes as locks, but Hector wouldn’t call that _thing_ a female. Its scales were green with a net of black ones which made them look like spots on the white skin.

“If I snap my fingers, she breaks your precious vampire’s neck.”

Hector kissed his teeth, loosening the pressure on Isaac’s throat just let him breathe. “If you hurt her, your master will die a very painful death.”

“I won’t, as long as he lives.” The monster had a croaking voice, but its tone was calm as if it tried to seem friendly and reassuring. “If you let him go, we’ll do the same.”

“So he could try to kill me again, and maybe even success?” Hector showed his teeth. “Don’t take me for a fool. I know you can’t disobey him, let alone _stop_ him.”

“But, if he dies, we _can_ avenge him.”

The naga scratched Lenore’s throat. Useless, since the wound healed almost immediately, but proved their point.

Hector growled and kicked Isaac in the guts. “Hey, asshole.”

Isaac groaned. He was bleeding, but alive… for the time being.

“If I let you go, will you leave the castle and never come back?”

“And let you escape your punishment? As if!”

Hector sighed theatrically and looked at Lenore.

She smiled.

“So I _have_ to kill you.”

Lenore vanished in a cloud of mist.

Hector crashed Isaac’s throat.

His creatures screeched, but Lenore punched the fly monster in the head and ripped the naga’s throat. Their bodies fell on the floor, and the other creatures looked at them in awe and wrath. The last emotion was mostly for him.

Hector reached for Lenore. “Can you fight?”

“I’ve been better, but yes.”

“I have your back.”

“In more than one sense,” she coquetted.

He wasn’t thinking about it, but it was nice to see her so lively. It meant she was in a not-so-bad shape.

But the monsters were still approaching. And they outnumbered the two of them.

Lenore put the first one down. “Carmilla and Morana are waiting for us in the Council Room. If we meet them, we can reorganize and free the castle.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Mostly.

If they had the time, he could do a little trick. It was such a shame to waste Isaac’s body. But a few night creatures were protecting his corpse with extra care. Well, he’d use his souls, someday.

“We have to reach the stairs.”

They weren’t too far, but in between there were too many foes. For every monster he killed, two or three seemed ready to fill the void. How the hell did Isaac forge such an army?

“You could fly away,” Hector pointed out, killing yet another bat-headed creature.

“And leave you here?” She wasn’t looking at him, and yet she seemed _outraged_. “Not a chance.”

That stubbornness was cute. And problematic, too. No time for debate. “So how do we get there?”

“Fighting.”

Hector would laugh if he only had the time. It was amazing how lightly she said that.

But the werecat attacking him didn’t let him.

Hector dodged and pushed the knife in its eye. He freed the blade and send the body to fall on a fox-headed purple monster.

To avoid it, the creature stumbled backwards, on a unicorn’s horn which cut through its chest like a butter slicing knife. The unicorn tried to free itself shaking its head, but that only scattered blood everywhere.

Lenore used that few seconds to break its neck. “I don’t like when they stain my dress.”

The creatures seemed uncertain. They still wanted to avenge their master’s death, but they feared him and Lenore (mostly her, to be honest), and without a leader they were weak and confused.

“Let us pass, and we won’t hurt you,” Lenore said.

The creatures looked at each other. Only thirty of them were still on their feet; they should’ve accepted her offer. Maybe they were thinking about it, but a minotaur attacked her head-on, and so the battle started over.

Lenore sighed, grasping it by the horns and ripping its head off in one pull. The more she fought, the more her movements became fluid. She danced between a corpse and a blood puddle like her feet knew by themselves how to avoid them. She was _flawless_ , cutting her way through that monsters’ army.

Hector moved in her trail, keeping night creatures away any time came too close. Putting his foot on the first step was like coming out of the woods at the first lights of dawn. Now he was shoulder to shoulder with Lenore, moving backwards to go upstairs.

The creatures didn’t let them another choice. Even being less than a dozen, they still tried to attack them, like they _couldn’t_ let go. Was it Isaac’s last will? Sick bastard! Such a pain in the ass even dead!

“If we put them down, we can run.”

Hector dodged a claw and kicked a cyclops in the chest, hard enough to drop it on the centaur behind him. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I am, but…” Lenore punched a tigerman in the muzzle. “This retreat is even more wearisome.” Still, she wouldn’t escape without him. Not a chance, she said.

Hector smiled. “Then we had to get rid of them.” He hammered a hawk’s beak and, when it lifted a hand to the stump, he tripped it.

Meanwhile, Lenore ripped a centaur’s heart out of its chest, and now she was squeezing it on the corpse. Even if two orcs approached her, she seemed carefree, dancing in the middle of their hits and stabbing them with her bare hands.

Hector wasn’t quite as elegant; although, he was efficient. One stab in the eye or the throat was more than enough. Smashing skulls worked too. And so he did, striking everyone in his reach.

None of them was trying to escape. Whether it was because of will or forced obedience, it didn’t matter. They charged and charged, even falling like flies.

And he was growing tired. He couldn’t feel his arms anymore. His hands on the hammer and knife’s hilt were numb, and they didn’t let go only because of habit.

“They’re dead.” Lenore’s finger pressed on his shoulder. “Come, before others come.” Her voice was plain and calming.

Hector nodded and hugged her. Even if there was no time for that, he needed to feel her, to make sure she was safe and sound. “I feared I’d lost you.”

Lenore caressed his nape and neck. “Hector…”

“I…”

She pressed a finger on his lips and kissed him on the forehead. “Let’s go. We’ll celebrate this victory as soon as we’ll be with my sisters.”

Hector nodded.

They walked to the Council Room. Many night creatures’ corpse dotted the corridors. Probably they entered through windows and balconies. The more they went on, though, the lesser the corpses become. The monsters hadn’t the chance to go too far inside the castle.

Soldiers and servants were taking them outside for a massive bonfire.

“Carmilla and Morana did a good job. Probably they organized the defenses already.”

He could see their touch in the killing. Especially Carmilla’s.

And now they were toasting in the Council Room. Their voices mingled behind the door. When Lenore opened it, they fell silent.

Seated on the table, Carmilla looked at them. “It took you a while.”

Hector stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. We confronted the invader and killed him.”

Carmilla grinned. “And who he was, in the end?” Even if she sort-of-accepted him seating at their table, she didn’t hide she saw him as Lenore’s pet.

“Isaac.”

Carmilla’s smile died on her lips. “The bastard was alive?”

“Unfortunately, yes, but I fixed that for you. You’re welcome.”

“That’s quite the news. Well, we all deserve a whole day of rest.”

“The guards are searching for the last night creatures, and they will clear the castle soon,” Morana said, pushing on her chair’s armrests to stand up. “Tomorrow we’ll have to calculate the damage, but I have no more energy for that. I’ll go to bed.”

“The windows alone will cost us a fortune!” Carmilla pointed out.

“Don’t tell me about it, or I won’t sleep!”

Lenore took his hand. “It’s such a fortune our beloved sister will come back with an empire to rule.” She smiled. “But that’s a fight for another night. Now, rest.”

Morana smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing fights in a language that's not my native one is one of the hardest things I've ever done. Some things were just indescribable. But I hope you liked this chapter; it's one of the longest.   
> In my first idea, Hector had to save Lenore from death in a very sad scene, but... it was too much a damsel in distress situation for my taste. We saw Lenore fighting, so she didn't fit the role of the sleeping princess. And so I changed my mind, letting the duo fight shoulder to shoulder. I hope this is for the best.  
> Next week, I'll post the epilogue. It's thrilling and sad at the same time. This fanfiction has been an incredible journey. I loved your company and I'm grateful for all your help and support.   
> So I can only say see you next Sunday.


	10. Epilogue

Lenore looked at Hector and smiled in her blood chalice.

He was so concentrated in his reading, he barely moved. He didn’t even notice she finished her paperwork for the night.

“It’s unnerving, you know?”

Hector looked at her like a lost child.

Lenore climbed on the bed, crawling to him, and took the book from his hands to toss it away. “You’re so used to this life you don’t flinch at all anymore.” She kissed him, lying down on his chest.

Hector hugged her, caressing her back. “I’m the happiest I could ever be, thanks to you.”

“And yet you seem more interested in books than in me.”

“I’m not.” Hector grabbed her butt, pressing her hips against his. “See? It’s impossible to lose interest in you.”

Lenore chuckled. “Well, that’s a lucky coincidence you don’t dress up anymore.” She kissed his chin and neck, following the jugular vein down to his heart. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.”

Lenore smiled. Even after months, she wasn’t tired of hearing that. She kissed her way through his belly and under the sheets.

His boner was up and said ‘hi’ with its pink tip.

Lenore licked it up and down until it was drenched in her saliva.

Hector inhaled. “Y-You d-don’t have to…” But his hand was on her nape, inviting her to take it all in.

She did, blowing him as his hand suggested. Was it right? Last time she did that, she was still human and not so willing. The bastard almost choked her.

Hector wasn’t even trying to force her. He only showed her what he liked. “Lenore…”

She looked at him, licking his frenulum with the tip of her tongue and then took all his dick in her mouth, down to the base.

Hector moaned. “D-Don’t…”

Lenore stopped and let it out. “Too much?”

Hector caressed her cheek, breathing heavily. “In a good way, yes.”

“So you want me to go on?”

“I have a better idea.” Hector grinned. “But I need you to undress first.”

Lenore smiled. “I already like it.” She stood up and gave him her shoulders, so he could see her fingers unbutton the dress. She took off one sleeve at a time and accompanied the dress down her torso, letting it fall on the floor.

Hector’s heartbeat was a drum in her hears, and the smell of his lust almost _tasty_. “You will make me insane.”

“I’ve barely started,” Lenore answered, unlacing the corset. She didn’t turn around, sliding her thumbs between her hips and panties to make them fall with the rest.

Hector’s eyes on her naked skin made her shiver. He got out of the bed and embraced her. “Don’t take off the hose,” he said, in a low, husky tone. “You’re even hotter with them on.” He pressed his boner between her buttocks and made her lean on the wall. “Can I take you like this?”

Lenore looked at him above her shoulder. “Only this time… and just because it’s you.”

“I’ll make you enjoy this so much… you will _beg_ for more.”

Lenore grinned. “You can try.” She kissed him but got distracted by his hand on her clitoris. “Hector…” she moaned, spreading her legs more.

Stimulating her from behind, he could massage all the vagina. And the anus too. His thumb, wet of her love juices, was playing with it, knocking lightly on the door.

“Hector…”

“I’m here, my lady…” His free hand grabbed a breast to entertain her there too. “Were you saying?”

Lenore moaned. “I…” How could she think straight, with that sweet torture on going? “You can’t…”

Hector kissed her neck. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare!”

He chuckled. “As my lady demands…” He kneeled behind her and licked her labia and clitoris. His tongue took its time to titillate her, moving in and outside her, and then reaching her anus like it was just the same thing.

Lenore moaned more and more, scratching the wall in response to the pleasure. How could it be so intense? “Hector…”

He didn’t answer, too focused on open her like no one ever did. One hand take care of her butt cheek, the other played with the clitoris, and his tongue explored her so _deep_ she could feel his saliva.

“Hector…”

“I’m here.” He stood up. “If you want me to stop…”

Stop at that point? No way! “I want to feel you. Please.” If just her tongue was enough to make her dizzy, how better sex would be?

Hector’s fingers gave her a taste of it. Two of them entered her rectum, spreading and thrusting to make room inside. They became three and then four, moving alternately in and out. “Here we are. Are you ready?” he asked.

Lenore nodded.

He entered her vagina first, to wet himself. “I don’t want hurt you,” he whispered. “Let me do this slowly.”

Lenore smiled. “Kiss me.”

Hector leaned on her lips, exiting her vagina, and pressed his chest on her back. He found her access with the fingers and pressed the tip of his dick on it.

“More,” Lenore moaned.

He obliged, reaching her depth, one inch at a time. “How do you feel?”

“Full… in a good sense. And even more aroused than before.” 

“Then leave it to me.” Hector kissed her again, grabbed her waist, and started to move in and out.

Lenore moaned, louder at every thrust, feeling the lack of the bed. The wall was too fragile against her nails. It would bear their marks. As if she could care, with Hector filling her like that. She felt _saturated_ , not just by pleasure, but by happiness and by something light and soft like the sense of coming back home. “Hector…”

He thrust faster, searching for her hands on the wall. “Lenore… Lenore…”

She looked at him, bleary from pleasure boiling in her belly.

“I love you, Lenore.”

He… “What?”

“I said I love you.” Instead of stopping, he accelerated. “I thought about it, and now I’m sure. I love you.”

Lenore couldn’t answer. Her voice disappeared, probably drowned in all those feelings sent by her body and heart. It was… too much. In the better way possible, but she just couldn’t cope. So she pinned him on the bed, kissing him as she could feed on his lips. The orgasm was lost, but she didn’t care. “I love you too.” She took him inside again. “Now finish what you started, pretty boy.”

Hector pushed her on the back, covering her and smiling. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

Lenore caressed his cheek, pulling him forward for a kiss.

Hector embraced her, taking his time to move again. He left her lips for the breasts. Caressing her neck with his nose, he went down on her nipple, sucking on it.

Lenore moaned and clenched her fists. “Hector…” He shouldn’t arouse her so much, or she could become _impatient_. “Give me more, my love. Please.”

Hector glanced at her, pinching the nipple with his teeth. “I’ll give you everything if you ask me so nicely,” he said, grabbing one breast and licking the other. His free hand found hers on the mattress and interlaced their fingers together. His pounding finally fastened, going deeper in her ass.

Lenore moaned, arching in response to pleasure. How could she have ignored it for so many centuries? How did her past sex partners never made her feel it? Oh, yeah: those arrogant pricks usually believed their only _existence_ was enough to make her cum. Hector was different. He thrust inside her like he had no other goal than making her peak. Did he know she was almost there or it was just a coincidence? Lenore didn’t care. She gave him all of her voice, floating in the rhythm of his hips until it became too much. Her mind’s border broke and the pleasure overflowed, flooding her, as he filled her with semen.

Hector slowed the pace, making the orgasm last a bit more, before falling next to her.

“Are you sated?” Lenore asked. Usually, one round wasn’t enough for them.

“I could be. For tonight.” Hector cuddled, smelling her neck’s skin.

“At what condition?”

He hummed in her shoulder. “I want you… forever.”

Lenore looked at him. He couldn’t mean it in a vampire sense, but… “You should be careful with your wishes. Especially when you say ‘forever’ to one of my kind.”

“Saying ‘for my whole life’ wasn’t as effective…”

Right. He was mortal. He would age and die. “If it wasn’t years, but centuries, millennia instead of decades… would you still say ‘forever’?”

“Turning into a vampire, you mean?” Hector opened an eye but didn’t move. “I would, but I couldn’t be a Forgemaster, then. Your sisters…”

“My sisters _borrowed_ you. If you agree, they will have to deal with it.”

“So be it, if it makes you happy. But I have an idea.”

“I’m listening.”

“Help me find a new Forgemaster. I’ll train them to replace me, and when they will be ready you can turn me… if you still want to.”

Lenore grinned. He was learning. Not intentionally, perhaps, but alas. “In a few years, you’ll be an expert in commerce.”

Hector laughed. “I love how you spell it. _Commerce_. You make it sound elegant, and a bit of playful.”

“Flatterer!”

He kissed her. “On second thought… I want to make love to you again.”

That was a wish she could grant immediately. Or maybe not, considering the approaching footsteps of a maid. Lenore sighed, as the girl knocked.

“I’m sorry to disturb you at this time, Your Highness, but Her Majesty sent me since our army is back.”

So Striga was home. It was about time! “Inform Her Majesty I’ll see her in a minute.”

“She said both of you should come, Your Highness.”

That was rare, coming from Carmilla, but it was no time to think about it. “Understood. We’ll be there.”

“I’ll tell her.” The girl ran off.

Lenore stretched like a cat. “We should dress up, my love.”

Hector smiled, standing up first and offering her his hand.

Lenore took it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are. It's finished.   
> That's a peculiar feeling, considering it's my first work in English, but not in general. Can I be proud? It really helped me to cope with lockdown's side effects and posting me here was nice. Your comments helped me a lot, so thank you.  
> I don't know when I'll write another fanfiction, or wich fandom will absorb me, but when that time will come... I'll be here, hoping to see you again.   
> Until then, good luck with your writing! I'm here if want to share your thoughts.


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